The Bending Games
by avatla
Summary: Katara and Sokka have been chosen to compete in the 74th Bending Games. Once they siblings join an alliance of skilled benders and warriors, the gang are sentenced to fight off dangerous ladies, harsh weather, possessed mutations, and bloodthirsty tributes. But, once romance enters this mix, it proves to be just as deadly. Kataang, Yukka, Sukka, Jetara, Tokka


Chapter One

Sokka stood outside of the small, weather-beaten shack he lived in with his sister, Katara. Boomerang in hand, he practiced again and again of hitting the sharpened metal weapon against a target on an oak tree. His consistency was near perfect when practicing with his trusty boomerang, but his aim with a spear was off. He would have been practicing with his sword if it were legal here in District 12. But it wasn't.

Katara squinted as she opened her eyes, the early morning light filtering in through a hole in the wall. She heard her brother practicing again, the sound of metal hitting wood notable in the morning's quiet. She stepped outside, the Seam completely empty. Sokka was target practicing with his boomerang on the sturdy oak tree in the front.

"Sokka!" She whispered, stepping onto the rickety porch, "What are you doing up?"

"Practicing," Sokka stated, never breaking his eyes from the bulls-eye as he let the weapon fly again.

"Sokka… it's Reaping Day. You shouldn't be practicing." Katara pointed out, sitting down on the termite-eaten steps, "Come inside."

Sokka sighed, dropping his arm. He turned to face his sister, blue eyes wary. "That's exactly why I'm practicing. My name's in there fifty-plus times, Katara. The odds are obviously not in my favor today."

Katara picked at her dirty nails, "They aren't in my favor either, Sokka. But you could be arrested for carrying a weapon on a holiday!"

Sokka clenched his fist and retreated back to the porch. "I told you that you didn't need to apply for tesserae, Kat." His jaw was tight, his dulled eyes glaring at her. "You shouldn't have. How many times is your name in the reaping bowl?"

Katara averted her eyes, "Thirty-six."

Sokka slammed his hand onto the house's wall. "Damn it, Katara!" He growled in a low whisper, "Mom and Dad told me to protect you. And how can I do that if you never listen?"

Katara stood up, walking back into the house, "I have my bending, Sokka." She pointed out, shrugging. "I don't need protection."

Sokka scoffed, "The odds are always in favor of those who can bend. When was the last time a nonbender won the Games?"

Katara guiltily looked down at her hands, "Ten years…"

"Exactly," Sokka spat, folding his strong arms over his chest, "It's just not fair."

Katara stepped back onto the porch, "Come inside, Sokka. The Peacekeepers will be coming out soon."

Sokka ran back to the tree, ripping the bulls-eye off and jogging back inside, grabbing his spear reluctantly. "Do we have any food?"

Katara quickly worked to light a fire, heaving a heavy caldron of water over the flames. "Did you go hunting without me yesterday?"

Sokka sighed, walking over to one of the kitchen cabinets, searching inside the seemingly empty cupboards for money, tea, or any thing edible. He sighed in relief, finding a small pouch of dried herbs and berries. He opened the burlap bag, smelling the sweet, earthy smell of dehydrated riches.

He set the bag down on the floor next to Katara, "I can go kill that donkey-goat." Sokka offered, reaching for his knife.

"No, Sokka." Katara scowled, "Do not kill my pet."

Her brother sighed, dropping to the ground, popping a crinkled berry into his mouth. It was bitter, but it was food. "Katara, that old thing is going to die soon any way."

"That old thing was a present from Dad." Katara snapped, cracking her knuckles angrily. "And it was a source of income for a few years."

"Fresh meat is better than dead meat," Sokka said, frowning.

"And dead meat is better than none." Katara countered, huffily.

The two picked at the bag of fruit, savoring the sugary tartness. Katara poured some herbs into the pot of boiling water, adding some grain flower and tesserae oil for bread. Katara made bread the way her mother did, cooking it like soup and turning it into small, round buns. It apparently lasted longer and fed more. She glanced outside, seeing the Peacekeeping guards roaming the dirty street, patrolling the Seam.

Times weren't as hard for the two when their parents were alive. Their father, Hakoda, had been killed by Peacekeepers for hunting. A few years later, Kya, their mother, died of sickness. Katara tried with all her might to keep their ailing mother alive, but her healing abilities were not strong enough to prevent the inevitable death of Kya. Katara usually blamed herself for their mom's death.

"We should wash up soon," Katara said, mixing the batter inside the pot, "Can you go fill the tub?"

Sokka nodded, standing and picking up the large, wooden bucket, carrying it down to the well and back, filling the tub again and again. Once full, he got in, scrubbing away at the dirt and grime that had covered his skin. _When was the last time he'd bathed? Last month? Two months ago? _He didn't remember.

Katara laid out her brother's reaping clothes, along with hers. She had to alter her brother's almost every year- he kept growing. Hers had remained the same since her first reaping. She was always going to be little. She waited for her brother to leave the bath and began to braid her hair, looping the front parts back into a much larger and complex braid.

After she was cleaned up and dressed, alike Sokka, the two began the solemn retreat into the town square, in front of the Justice Building. They filed into their age groups, Sokka joining the Fifteens while Katara joined the Fourteens. The two greeted a few friends from school, but like all the other kids, remained pretty silent. No one felt like talking on Reaping Day.

Poppy Beifong emerged from the Justice Building, dressed in fine, green silks and satins. Her black hair was piled on top of her head in thick, coiled curls. A large, golden flower was perched amongst the mountain of hair. Her face was painted a ghostly white, her lips a scary shade of silver. Her cheeks seemed all-too pink, and her eyelashes would have touched her eyebrows- if she had eyebrows, that is. She grinned out at the crowd as the Capitol Anthem began to play, her white teeth blinding.

"Welcome, welcome!" She trilled in her shrill voice, "The Seventy-Fourth Bending Games is upon us! It must be such an honor to all stand here, prepared to represent District Twelve courageously. And, you are all in for a treat!"

Katara tried not to roll her eyes as Poppy continued on. "We have an extra-special film just for you, all the way from the Capitol!"

The traditional video about the Treaty of Treason began to play, Sokka and Katara meeting eyes to share an annoyed look. Alas, not even poking fun at the Capitol seemed to lift Katara's spirits. The video finished and Poppy smiled again.

"I just love that!" She stated, "Now! On to the real fun! As usual, ladies first!"

Katara's heart panicked, knowing that on thirty-six of those small, white squares was her citizen number, bending status, and name. Katara crossing her fingers, closing her eyes, praying and praying that she wouldn't hear number-

"Number One-Nine-Nine!" Poppy called, waving the small paper square, "Miss Katara, a waterbender! Katara, dear, please, come on up!"

Katara felt as if her feet had been welded into the stone beneath her. She opened her mouth, her lungs heaving to let in air. She turned her head, eyes meeting with Sokka's. Sokka stared back with a scared, wavering expression. He was just as frightened as she was.

Katara was prodded in the back by a Peacekeeper. She began to slowly shuffle forwards, down the aisle and up the concrete steps of the Justice Building. She stood beside Poppy, her hands trembling. Poppy beamed manically down at Katara, grasping one of her shoulders with her long, pointed nails. "Congratulations, dear!"

Katara made a small, weak sound in the back of her throat as she struggled to breathe. She shut her eyes for a moment, sheer terror setting in. She was going to die. She knew it.

"Gentlemen, your turn!" Poppy sang giddly, tottering in her heels over to the next reaping bowl, dramatically sweeping her hand around the class sphere. She snatched up a reaping paper, her eyes going wide at the words printed on it. "This is extraordinary! Number One-Nine-Eight!"

Sokka. It was Sokka. He squared his shoulders bravely, trudging up to the stage with a steely look in his once-bright eyes. He stiffly took his place next to Poppy, his eyes momentarily shutting, as if he was offering a silent prayer to the Spirits.

"We have a pair of siblings, today! Our tributes are siblings!" Poppy shrieked into the microphone, way too happy with this news. "Everyone, your District Twelve Tributes!"

The crowd was quite, until one girl, a friend of Katara's, sank to her knees, bowing reverently. Soon, everyone had sunk to the dirty ground, giving the siblings a last salute before Poppy dragged them into the Justice building, shutting the two kids into a luxurious room.

Katara sat on the edge of a tufted velvet chair as Sokka glowered out the window. "Sokka…" She started, turning to face him, tears edging at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm going to protect you, Katara. Even if it leads to my death, I will keep you safe in that arena." Sokka declared, folding his arms. "There's nothing you can do to stop me."

Katara hung her head, "But… you have to win."

"I need to protect you." Sokka said, finally turning her way, "I promised Mom that I'd keep you safe, Katara! I will not let Mom down. And if throwing my life on the line is the only way to keep you from dying, I'll do it."

Katara let a tear slip down, "I'm not gonna last a minute out there and you know it, Sokka!"

"Don't doubt yourself, Kat." Sokka whispered, "I've seen you bend. I know you can heal. I believe that you can win."

"But you can fight… you can hunt! You know how to use weapons and find edible plants!" Katara bickered, wiping her eyes.

"I need to keep you safe," Sokka insisted, hugging his only family member left. "I will not let you die."


End file.
